


Nights

by GoldenWooly



Series: Ouryuu's Wife [2]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:46:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenWooly/pseuds/GoldenWooly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night has some fond memories held within it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MurkyMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurkyMuse/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [Noches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680452) by [narutinachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/narutinachan/pseuds/narutinachan)



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MURKY (I AM LATE I TOLD YOU I'D BE LATE)!!!

Summer nights were always warm. It had been a constant thing over thousands of years, the cicadas chirping lazily in the night, the birds settling down. A calm, peaceful moment as the sun set before the moon rose high into the air, basking the world in its gentle glow. The soothing lull of sleepiness would drift across the ground, enveloping anyone who came near with drowsiness. They would huddle under a blanket on those nights, resting on the ground outside as they whispered sweet nothings, watching as the shadows of the trees grew longer and longer, creeping towards them like nervous children. When the shadows finally vanished, the two of them would mutter softly as they got up and retreated into their home.

It was a quiet ritual that neither of them dared to break, until her sickness got worse.

“Kaya?”

She would cough as she smiled brightly at him, shaking her head and telling him she was fine. She would stumble towards the place they would sit together, stubbornly making the short trip on her own, demanding he join her. He would, but would keep a tight arm around her waist, a frown threatening to break across his face as she would try to hide a cough.

“Yes, Zeno?”

Eventually it began to be too much trouble for her to leave the house, so they would sit inside, quiet whispers of the dying fire crackling and filling the room, never quite loud enough to mask her coughs. He would sit beside her, gently brushing her hair from her face, whispering gently to her words of love and encouragement.

“I love you.”

The nights had grown longer, and he would stay awake, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, praying to the gods she wouldn’t die quite yet, praying she would open her eyes again and smile that bright smile he fell in love with. At times the sounds from outside their home would be louder than her breathing, would be louder than the coughs that seemed to rip her lungs apart, the heaviness of the outside world weighing heavily in his mind.

“I love you, too, Zeno!”

Eventually her breathing stopped, the coughs no longer came. Her smile seemed to vanish from her face, her skin cold and lifeless against his hands. The summer nights seemed to grow longer with each day, almost taunting him of everything that had been ripped away. The heaviness grew to become unbearable.

“Promise you’ll never leave?”

And slowly, the summer nights would fade into fall nights, into colder nights, into lonelier nights. The cicadas had all died, the birds would go to sleep earlier, and he would be left in an eternal silence, his voice the only sound to distract him from the ache he felt in his heart. He would sit on a tree branch and watch as the sun would go down, as the shadows grew longer than they needed to be. He would sit and watch as white snow began to fall, the eerie silence pressing heavily against his mind.

“Kaya will do her best, I promise!”

Several years had gone by. Perhaps thousands. And the nights were always the same, always the heavy silence, the heavy ache of loneliness pressing tightly against him. Every so often he would feel a cool touch to his hand, to his cheek, and a smile would slowly spread across his face as he watched the night sky, the ache lifting slightly, the misery he felt vanishing slowly.

“Kaya?” He would ask, his eyes focused on the sky, her name seeming to fill the empty air, covering the silence with the beauty of it.

“Yes, Zeno?” She would respond, always right beside him, always gently smoothing out his hair, her touch nothing more than a gentle caress of the wind, just as gentle as his mother’s touch had been long ago.

“You promised to never leave Zeno, right?”

Her voice would be warm, the night seeming to come alive with the sound, the darkness seeming to become much brighter with the lilted sound of her laugh.

“Of course! Kaya couldn’t do that with her alive, but now she can.” She would respond each time, the words seeming to soothe him, reassuring him, filling him with a sense of peace. “Now I can.”

Her answer would satisfy him enough that a smile would find its way onto his face. She would comment on the sky, the stars, the moon, would comment about how the wind was alive with the gentle whispers of those passed, encouraging him to sleep, lulling him to sleep. He would ask her again if she would stay, and she would answer that she would.

“Kaya?”

“Yes, Zeno?”

“I love you. More than anything. More than-”

“More than the sun loves the moon,” she would whisper, interrupting his voice, her words gentle.

“I would search the world over to bring you a star.”

“You already gave me a star,” she would laugh, kissing his cheek gently as he looked on in confusion. “His hair shines brighter than the sun, and glows softer than the gentlest of stars. His voice holds more warmth than the sun could ever share with me, and his heart is so much more beautiful than any twinkling in the sky could ever be.”

The nights soon began to resemble those of his memories, of a past he longed to go back to. Her voice would be just as gentle as it was then, would whisper sweet nothings to him as he slept, holding the promise that she would be right there for him, just as he had been right there for her all that time ago. She would whisper about the gentle glow of his hair in the moonlight, a ghostly finger gently stroking his cheek as he slept. She would sing softly to him, singing of days long past, her voice low and gentle as she would sing him lullabies, sing of her love for him, always a hint of regret and joy in the music.

The nights began to bring him the comfort he longed for.


End file.
